


Maybe I'm Crazy To Suppose

by twoshipstiedup



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Romance, Fluff and Mush, Larry christmas, M/M, Movie Reference, Romantic Fluff, tons of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-11 23:25:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16861978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoshipstiedup/pseuds/twoshipstiedup
Summary: A breakup before Christmas sends Harry back to a place he'd been avoiding for years.One night with a stranger makes him want to stay.An AU based on "The Holiday"





	Maybe I'm Crazy To Suppose

**Author's Note:**

> I love the movie The Holiday, so I picked one of the two stories to tell. Hopefully it makes you smile. 
> 
> Happy Holidays ❤️

Harry slammed the front door, letting out a frustrated noise as he banged his palm against it. He leaned his forehead in and took one of the deep calming breaths he had spent hours perfecting in yoga and counted to ten, before kicking the wooden frame with the toe of his slipper.

“Fucking hell, ow,”

“Is everything alright?’

Harry sucked in another deep breath, turning to meet the worried eyes of his assistant Niall. “Ethan and I just broke up,”

Niall bit down on the cap of the pen clutched in his hands, his eyebrows pinched together. “Was it because of the whole secretary thing?”

Harry narrowed his eyes, pushing away from the door in a huff. “So everyone really did know except me, how lovely.”

Niall at least had the decency to look a bit crestfallen. “Honestly Harry, we all thought you knew and had like, I don’t know, an open relationship? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed, I—

Harry sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “It’s fine. Allegedly it was my fault anyways.” He rolled his shoulders back and shook off the morning of blame and accusations. He couldn’t do anything about it now. “Did you get that video off to Bernie?”

Ethan had claimed the root cause of his infidelity was the fact that Harry worked too much, and maybe he did. He was a New York Times bestselling author, a goal he had been trying to reach most of his adult life, and he would not apologize for that. His most recent crime series had taken him to soaring new heights and there had been high demand for the third installment to be pushed out for the holiday season, so that’s what Harry had locked himself away doing for the past couple of months, while Ethan, a music producer, was happily banging his secretary Josh.

He nodded, pulling up the calendar on his iPad. “Yeah, I’m just waiting for the big boss to give me the go ahead before we post it to your website. A quick thank you and Happy Holidays message to the fans and then you’re free to do whatever you want until the New Year.”

Harry motioned for Niall to follow him into his office, where he eased down into a battered leather chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Maybe I should start working on the next installment,”

Niall frowned. “Harry, you’ve worked your ass off this year, don’t you want to spend the holidays with your family?”

He shook his head, glancing at the framed picture of his mum and sister on his desk. “No, they’re spending it with Gem’s in-laws. I definitely don’t feel like being the third wheel now.”

Niall’s frown deepened, his cheeks reddening. “I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have assumed about you and Ethan, I feel like a right prick.”

Harry leaned across the desk, covering Niall’s hand with his own. “This is not your fault and I promise I’ll be fine.”

He looked uncertain, but succumbed in agreement. “Okay, but what if...I kind of have an idea brewing if you’re up for it,” Harry cocked an eyebrow, indicating his interest. Niall’s mood switched in an instant, suddenly quite eager at the prospect of making up for his non-wrong doings. “My parents have a house in the countryside back in England, my mate Liam has been renting it off them. What if you guys swapped places for the holidays?”

Harry let out what seemed to be his fortieth sigh of the day. “Niall, there’s a reason I don’t live in England, its stuffy and boring,”

“Harry, you’re a writer, you’re supposed to be stuffy and boring. Maybe a change of scenery might be good for you, all things considering.”

“How do you know your mate would even be up for this?”

Niall grimaced as though he swallowed sour milk. “He’s kind of going through something a bit similar,” he picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts, “Let’s call him and see what he thinks.”

It rang a couple of times before a muffled voice came through on the speakerphone. They heard a few sniffles before a voice finally croaked out. “Niall?”

“Hey mate! How are you?”

“Great! So, so great, yes, just, great. Definitely not crying if that’s what you were wondering,”

Harry mouthed ‘he’s totally crying’ and Niall rolled his eyes, waving him off. “I’m just here with Harry, you know the author I work for? I thought since you both don’t have any plans for the holidays that it might be kind of cool for you guys to trade houses,”

There was another sniffle followed by a confused pause. “Trade houses?”

“Yeah! You would spend Christmas in LA and Harry would spend it in Surrey. It might be fun, right?”

Harry had to laugh. He didn’t know who Niall was trying to convince more, himself or the two of them. As much as he wanted to resist, deep down he knew that Niall was right, he did need a break, from work and probably LA as well. Immersing himself in Ethan’s music world had pulled him into a Hollywood headspace that he absolutely did not belong in. He was a murder mystery writer, not the star of one.

“Oh…that does sound interesting. I’ve never been to LA before,”

Niall brightened at the easy progress he was making. “I know! The timing is kind of perfect if you ask me. I can have Harry out on tomorrows red eye if that works for you?”

Harry started to grumble about how he wasn’t asked if it worked for _him_ , but he caught the look in Niall’s eye that told him to can it.  “Umm yeah, I could do that, I have loads of time off anyways. Can you email me the details? And hi Harry, nice to kind of meet you finally,”

“You as well Liam and I do apologize for this bossy cow,”

“Without this bossy cow you would get nothing done.”

Harry pursed his lips, biting back a smile. He definitely could not argue that point. “Hey Liam, can I ask you one thing about your place?”

“Absolutely, fire away.”

“Are there any men in your town?”

He laughed down the line, “There are zero.”

“Perfect.”

Niall picked the phone up to switch it from speaker, cradling it against his ear. “Yeah, I’ll send it right away. Take care of yourself okay?” He paused another minute, his voice taking a lower register. “I know, and I love you too bud.”

Harry watched as Niall pocketed the phone, noting the brief pained expression that flashed across his features. “What exactly happened with Liam?”

Niall flicked his eyes up from the British Airways page he already had pulled up his iPad. “This guy at his work that he’s been in love with for the last seven years just got engaged to another one of their coworkers. And said guy has been stringing Liam along for the last seven years as well,”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. He’d never say out loud, but he’s taking it pretty hard.”

Harry didn’t need to hear him say it, the tears in his voice certainly covered that territory. He reckoned that he should be feeling the same way, but he had always been good at compartmentalizing his feelings, which was code for him being absolute shit at expressing them. As a writer, you would think he would be more sensitive and in touch with his feelings. Though if he were being truthful, he hadn’t even loved Ethan, in fact he had never said those three little words to anyone. He shuddered to think about what that all meant, really.

He stood up, stretching his arms out over his head with a yawn, “Alright, I guess I better pack for this trip that I’m being forced to take against my will.”

“Trust me, you’ll be thanking me in the end, and do not pack multiple coats again, Bernie gives me enough shit about your luggage charges,”

Harry scoffed. “Give me a break Niall, I obviously know how to pack light.”

…

However, the way he was grunting as he dragged his two suitcases that probably weighted more than he and Niall combined up onto the sidewalk outside the airport a day later contradicted that statement.

Niall glared at him and the luggage before wrapping him into a hug. “Alright, have a safe flight and please learn how to relax and chill out a bit for me,”

“That’s all I’m getting you for Christmas then.”

“I’ll take it,” he stepped back, clasping onto Harry’s upper arms. “Let me know when you get settled and I’ll give you an update on Liam before I take off myself.”

Harry reached out to ruffle his hair. “I’m glad you’re taking a break too, you deserve it.”

“My beautiful wife agrees.”

Harry drew him in for one last hug. “Send Nancy my love, and enjoy your holiday.”

Niall squeezed him back, patting him on the back once he released him. “You too. And for fucks’ sake, relax!!”

~

After sleeping fitfully on the flight via knocking himself out with red wine and Ambien, Harry _had_ actually been relaxed, but that feeling was short lived due to the bumpy, snow-covered roads his driver was cruising down as if he were auditioning for the next fast and the furious movie. They sped past a tiny village in the blink of an eye, when he suddenly came to an abrupt stop, causing Harry to clutch at the back of the passenger seat to stop himself from flying into it.  

The driver pointed a finger down a narrow lane that had a suspicious, icy sheen to it. “The cottage is down that road, but if I go down there I’ll never get back out. I’m sorry to say I have to let you off here.”

He really did not seem that sorry when he pulled away seconds later, leaving Harry blinking at his retreating brake lights while surrounded by his four hundred pounds of luggage. He glanced down at his shoes with a frown.

“I guess I’m about to learn what suffering for the sake of fashion is really all about.”

Much like his aversion to feelings, as a writer, in theory, Harry probably should have been clothed in cardigans and Clarks, but instead he had an affinity for pricey coats and heeled Saint Laurent boots, which were making his trek through the snow a bit of a challenge. He had only almost broken his neck a half a dozen times by the time he reached the little wooden gate that indicated he was at his home for the holidays.

He brushed the snow off the nameplate to reveal the word ‘Rosehill’ and gazed at the cottage thoughtfully. It was such a stark contrast to his own home in the Hollywood Hills; a million dollar bungalow that had cost him a small fortune to decorate and had every convenience he could ever need, but most of the time didn’t actually _feel_ like a home. Meanwhile, the one stood before him immediately looked cozy and inviting in its slightly dilapidated state.

The struggle to get his suitcases inside and upstairs was very real, but after putting his clothes away (which included five more coats than Niall would have allowed him to bring had he been supervising his packing) he finally got a chance to fully take in his surroundings. The cottage was quite charming, with quaint rooms crammed full of knickknacks and a mishmash of furniture that gave the feel of being wrapped in a warm blanket. He wondered how much of that was Niall’s parents, or Liam, but the odd Batman comic among the bookshelves made him smile all the same.

He wandered into the kitchen in pursuit of something to drink when he spotted the basket that was left on the table. Upon further inspection he could see that it was overflowing with biscuits, cookies and cheeses and most importantly, a couple of bottles of wine. He opened the note tucked into the front, skimming over the scratchy handwriting.

“Greetings Harry, a warm welcome to the beautiful English countryside! Please make yourself at home and thank you again for doing this. Liam xx”

He placed the note back into the basket, thinking of the similar one that he had left for Liam. He hoped he hadn’t gone too overboard, but you could never have too much wine and chocolate right? Speaking of which, he rifled through the basket and snatched up a bottle of red, reaching for the glass that was awaiting him on the counter and made his way back into the living room. He sunk down into the couch, took a sip of his wine and closed his eyes.

They popped right back open a few seconds later and he took longer swig of wine, a small sigh leaving his lips.

“Now what?”

Harry did not excel at sitting still or knowing how to relax. When he was at home he was always on the go, whether it was working out, or writing, or messing around in his music room. Obviously, writing did not count towards an actual physical activity, but it was a way for him to escape to another world. Otherwise, he’d be trapped with his own thoughts which were filled with fun topics like why hasn’t he settled down yet, or why did his last two boyfriends cheat on him, or why did he have trouble expressing his emotions.

Like he was right now.

He groaned and poured another glass of wine, rubbing at his stomach. “Maybe I’m just hungry, it’s been ages since I ate,” he said to well, no one. He shook his head and stumbled back into the kitchen, pulling the fridge open to inspect what he could throw together.

He decided on a simple pasta dish and tried to ignore the incessant ticking of the clock on the wall behind him as he chopped up a couple of tomatoes, but by the time he had the water boiling it had driven him to grinding his teeth. He noticed a stereo sitting dormant on one of the tables in the hallway so he slid over and pressed play, grinning wildly when he heard the first few notes of ‘Mr. Brightside’

Harry bounced around the room, singing at the top of his lungs and if anyone were to peek in the window right now, they would think he was a complete nut job. And maybe he was, he could already see the headlines ‘Lunatic writer dies alone in rural England while getting drunk on cheap wine and burning the house down while attempting to cook a meal for one’

“Alright, that was bleak.”

He turned the music down to a reasonable volume and went back to put the finishing touches on his pasta. Once he was satisfied with his helping of parmesan cheese, he took the plate and wine back into the living room, placing it down next to something very familiar. Harry picked his book up with a smile, remembering that Niall had always made it a point to send his family and friends advance copies. He opened the crisp cover and flipped through it as he spun a couple of noodles around his fork.

Harry never read his own books, he thought it was borderline egotistical to do so, but here where no one could see him he could indulge in a chapter or two. He scanned through a couple of pages while he munched on his dinner, swallowing around a thought. “Huh, I _am_ good.”

He had been approached by a couple of movie studios about optioning his books, something he had always been apprehensive about because most of the time it was true, the movie just wasn’t as good as the book, but maybe it was something he should think about again and discuss with Bernie when he got home. As his long time one and only publisher, he only ever wanted what was best for Harry.

Aside from paying for his overweight luggage, apparently.

After setting his book aside and cleaning up his dishes, he felt another itchy wave of anxiousness. He clearly wasn’t cut out for relaxing, so he decided then and there that he would book a flight home in the morning. He turned to head up the stairs to pack up his clothes again, when a knock on the door had him pausing on the bottom step.

He glanced at the front door waiting to see if there would be a second knock, when it finally sounded out moments later. He walked over and pulled it open, his eyeballs nearly popping out of the sockets when he took in the man on the other side.

“Oh, hello, um, you’re not Liam,”

Harry shook his head, swallowing thickly. “No.” He could only stand there dumbstruck, because the most incredibly handsome man with the bluest eyes he had ever seen, was just _existing_ right here in front of him.

He blew on his hands, smiling wryly. “Do you mind if I come in? I swear I’m not some weirdo, I usually pop in and say hi to Liam on my way home,”

“From?”

His teeth chattered a bit as he huddled further into his dark wool coat. “The pub down the way, and if I’m being honest, I’ve had a few pints and I kind of need a wee.”

Harry jumped back, waving a hand inside, “Oh! Sorry, I, yes, come on in.”

He stepped into the hallway, shaking out of his coat to reveal a light blue button down and dark fitted jeans. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, nodding down the hall, “I’ll just be a minute.” Harry nodded back in quiet disbelief. Even though he had just eaten, he was pretty sure his mouth was watering.

“Oh my god.” He quickly checked himself out in the mirror, hoping he didn’t look like a complete disaster. He may have wished for no men for Christmas, but those men were not this one. He thinks. He fluffed up his wilted curls and popped an extra button on the flannel he was wearing, trying to act casual as his handsome visitor sauntered back towards him.

“I’m Louis by the way,” he offered with a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the sides. Harry felt his insides clench. “Tomlinson, if you want to run a criminal record check.”

Harry barked out a laugh, “You’re the friendliest robber ever if that’s the case.” Those vivid blue eyes just shone at him. He didn’t know if he should offer out a hand, so he instead pointed a thumb at himself like an idiot. “Harry Styles. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ah, I thought you looked familiar,” he scratched through the rough stubble on his chin, tilting his head to the side. “Now I’m even more curious as to why you’re in Liam’s house,”

Harry turned towards the living room, hoping Louis would take the cue to follow. He really needed that wine again. “He’s friends with my assistant, and at his suggestion we decided to trade houses for the holidays,” he poured some wine into the empty glass and sat down on the couch, watching as Louis did the same. He offered it over to Louis opting to be a polite host, though it wasn’t going to be very polite of him to drink his right out of the bottle.

Louis accepted the glass with a smile. “That’s right, Niall, we’ve met a few times,” he shook his head in wonder. “I can’t believe Liam went on an actual vacation, he literally never does that,”

“So I’ve heard. Hopefully he makes the most of his time in LA then.”

Louis whistled. “Wow LA? That’s pretty major, good for him.” He finally took a sip of the dark red liquid, a smirk forming on his lips. “And I hope so too, he needs to get laid.”

Harry nearly sputtered out the wine he had been delicately trying to sip from the bottle. However, he couldn’t help but think the same thing about himself; it had been weighing on his mind ever since Ethan had brought up their nonexistent sex life. He wiped a hand across his wet lips and glanced over at Louis who was watching him with a questioning look.

Here went nothing.

“So, you’re arguably the hottest man that I have ever seen,” Louis coughed, slapping a hand to his chest to help the wine he was clearly choking on go down. Harry should have been offering him water instead of the request that actually came out of his mouth. “And I think that we should have sex. If you want,”

Harry half expected him to fall off the couch with laughter, but he managed to keep a straight, yet highly amused face. “Is that a trick question?”

“No,” Harry rubbed his increasingly sweaty palms on his thighs. “And I should preference this with the fact that I never do this and that I just broke up with someone yesterday,” Harry wrinkled his nose, hoping he wasn’t about to sound too pathetic. “He was uh, cheating on me.”

“I see. A vacation rebound then,”

Harry shook his head, meeting his eyes with a bashful smile. “Um no, more of like an experiment? To see if I’m even good at this, I feel like it was somewhat…insinuated. That I wasn’t.”

Louis blew out a breathy laugh. “Now Harry, that simply cannot be true. I mean first of all you are insanely gorgeous, seriously, your book jacket does not do you justice,”

“That’s very flattering and I should probably make a note to contact my publisher about fixing that, but I really don’t think that has anything to do with it, how do you—

The press of Louis’ lips against his suddenly cut him off, swallowing whatever his next protest was going to be. He shifted his head to get a better angle and hummed his approval when he felt Louis’ tongue against his own. He inched his body closer as they deepened the kiss, feeling fingertips slide into his hair and give a slight tug. He moaned into Louis’ mouth, biting down on his lip. Louis paused for a moment, before giving the curled ends another experimental tug, which elicited another needy moan from Harry.

Louis leaned his head against Harry’s, a chuckle falling from his lips. “Okay, I’m sorry to say it, but your boyfriend was a bloody idiot,” he grabbed onto Harry’s hips, easing him over into his lap. He kissed a line up his neck, mouthing at the space beneath his ear. “Tell me what you want, because I am prepared to do whatever it is.”

“I… kind of want to ride you. It’s been so long since I’ve done that,”

Harry moved his hips in a way that had Louis groaning into his ear. “Seriously Harry. A bloody. _Idiot_.” Louis palmed his ass, grinding back up into him. “I hope you have some stamina love, I can already tell you with confidence that once is not going to be enough,”

“I go to the gym every day and do yoga regularly,” he slowly drew his tongue across Louis’ lips, pausing to hover right above them. “I’m very, _very_ flexible.”

“I’ve never come from someone’s voice, but if you keep talking like that I’m pretty sure that I could.”

Harry leaned back, nodding his head over his shoulder. “I’ve got some audio books if you want to test that theory.”

“That would definitely make this the most interesting hook up ever,” he quipped.

All Harry could do was smile, pushing a loose curl behind his ear. When it sprang back forward, Louis reached out to move it away, drawing his eyes over Harry’s face. “You really are gorgeous.”

He flushed a bright pink, licking his lips. “Should we go upstairs?’

Louis started to guide Harry back off his thighs, waving a hand out. “I’m ready if you are,”

Harry went to take a step back before looking at Louis again, roaming his eyes down his chest, contemplating. “Actually, I’d really like to suck you off here first, if that’s okay,”

Louis grinned, poking a finger into Harry’s stomach, “See? You’re already better than you think.”

“That’s good to know.”

And with that, he slid down between Louis’ thighs, dropping down to his knees.

~

Harry stared out the window and watched as the first few snowflakes started to fall, covering the footsteps left in the path like a distant memory. His mind wandered to the prior evening’s events while he waited for the kettle to boil, causing warmth to bloom up his chest and over his cheeks.

He had never abandoned his inhibitions like that before, something he was definitely considering blaming on the wine and jet leg. Not that he regretted a second of it, no, having the memory of Louis sliding into him and fucking him so slow that his blood felt like syrup in his veins wasn’t something he wished to forget anytime soon. Nevertheless, it was definitely out of character for him.

He had also been ready to go home, he even mentioned it to Louis during a break in-between orgasms. But those piercing blue eyes and addictive laugh were giving him second thoughts.

“Morning,”

Harry startled out of his somewhat R rated daydream only to be startled again by the boner inducing vision that was Louis in glasses. “Good morning,”

Louis absently ran a hand over his surely weeks old stubble, sending him a sheepish grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in a few.”

Harry frowned at that. He actually didn’t want him to leave, maybe ever, and that probably should have concerned him more than it did. He pushed the thought aside, sliding a teacup towards Louis. “At least have some tea before you go.”

Louis happily accepted. “Lovely, cheers,” he paused as he brought the cup up to his lips, eyes boring into Harry’s over the edge. “I think you should stay,” he put the cup down again without taking a sip, giving a meek one-shoulder shrug. “In my opinion.”

Harry scratched a finger along his neck, popping a hip against the counter. “I don’t know… it’s maybe a little too peaceful here. I’ve never gotten used to the quiet.”

Louis hummed his acknowledgment but didn’t press for anything further, though the look that passed over his face made it seem like something was on his mind.

“Umm, thanks by the way,”

Louis perked up. “For the sex?”

Harry laughed, opting to look down at his feet to hide his smile. “Yes.”

“No, thank _you_. I think I’m going to have your orgasm face ingrained in my mind for at least the next six months,” Harry brought his head back up to meet his eyes, which were dancing with amusement. “If that helps with your decision at all,”

He bit down on his lip. Harry was really trying to contain himself here. “That’s sweet, or at least I think it is.”

Louis grinned. “Okay, seriously, here is my one last attempt. I’ll be at the White Horse pub around seven tonight. If you decide to stay,” he wandered over to the grab his coat of the hook by the door, pulling it back over his body. Harry was sad to see it go. He wrapped his scarf around his neck, smiling softly as he opened the door. “I’ll be seeing you, Harry.”

As soon as the door shut behind him, Harry quickly moved back to the window in the kitchen to watch Louis’ figure disappear down the frosty field. When he was far enough out of sight, Harry finally let out the breath he had been holding ever since Louis suggested that he stay.

“I am well fucked.”

Literally and figuratively.  

…

Harry got about as far as taking one coat off the hanger before he had made up his mind. He was staying, his aversion to silence he damned, because one night with Louis was not going to satisfy him in the least.

He should have told him that before he let him step one foot out of the house, instead of leaving the question of ‘will he or won’t he show up’ on his mind. Now Harry had to wait hours until he could see him again, which meant having to spend them with the hundreds of thoughts racing through his mind.

“God help me.”

He decided to check in with Niall and promptly received a short message back to let him know that Liam got in, everything was good and that he was turning his phone off until after Christmas.

He tossed the phone aside, thinking ‘how rude’, but really he was happy that he was headed out to the tropics. Niall worked harder than he did, he was basically the glue that held Harry’s life together. He could survive a couple of days without talking to him. Niall that is, Harry was not as confident in himself.

The snow had finally let up, making for a serene picture in the front yard. There was something kind of therapeutic about the fresh blanket of snow, soft music flowing throughout the cottage and blazing fire lighting up the den. This seemed like the kind of environment that most writers surrounded themselves in, not the constant chaos and noise to which Harry had become accustomed. Inspired, he dug around in his suitcase until he felt the cool metal of his laptop.

Yes, he had made a promise to Niall that he would take a break and relax, but writing was something many people used to unwind, so he could use that as his excuse. He flopped down on the bed, the fresh sheets reminding him once again of what had transpired the night before. Something he would not think about until he got ready later, because writing and wanking were really a counterproductive activity, and he would much rather have Louis’ very knowledgeable hands helping him with the latter.

He briefly allowed himself think about the way Louis’ fingers felt curled deep inside him, instantly feeling a trickle of sweat down the side of his face. He wiped it away and furrowed his brows, willing himself to concentrate on a gory murder for his next book, instead of the way his name sounded rasping out of Louis’ lips.

It took some superhuman strength, which maybe he could thank Liam for as he seemed to have a soft spot for Captain America, but it worked and he managed to write for hours until he finally noticed it was nearing dusk. He swung his legs out of bed and pondered his outfit choice. What did he want Louis to take off him, was the question.

He opted for a pair of trusty black skinny jeans and a woolen tan jumper to layer over the thin white cotton t-shirt he had been lounging in. Truth be told he could be wearing his workout gear and would want Louis to tear that off as well, but he wanted to look mildly attractive. He had already decided he was going to walk into town, so his boots should probably stay behind, but the pair of Hunter wellies staring him down from the corner of the room made him crinkle his nose up. 

So be it. He was going to put his life into Saint Laurent’s hands once again.

He took his time styling his hair; he had cut it all off the year before on a charitable whim, and now that he was growing it out again his curls were back to their wild ways of his teenage years. To say that it was in an awkward stage would be much too kind.  

Once he was somewhat satisfied with it, he grabbed a scarf and long black wool coat and headed down the stairs to slip into his boots. He shivered inwardly as he stood in the open doorway, though if it was from the cold or from the prospect of seeing Louis again, that he couldn’t be sure of.

He had to hand it to himself, two days earlier he had been ready to swear off men for good, but one night with a blue eyed, multiple orgasm-giving angel had him enjoying life again, and even more of a feat, England.

Maybe Louis was his very own Christmas miracle.

... 

He certainly looked at Harry as if he were his when he caught his eye from across the bustling pub.

Louis shot up out of his chair, a look of shock on his face. “You stayed,”

Harry stood in front of the table, hands clasped over the back of the chair. “It looks like it. Someone I know was very convincing.”

“I’ll have to thank them,” Louis filled the other wine glass on the table, making his heart skip a beat with the thought that he really had been holding onto the small hope that Harry would show up. He slid it over with a radiant smile. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

They clinked their glasses together, and Harry grinned, licking the sweet liquid off his lips.

“I’ll drink to that.”

...

Harry drank a lot to that. More than anyone ever should. Somehow, he managed to get back to the cottage, and somehow Louis was still with him despite the horrifying amount of tequila he drank.

A couple of the locals had discovered that their favorite author was on site, so that was the start of the free shots, and it should have been the end of them. However, a group of teens challenged him to a dance off and that was when Harry’s judgment and dignity both left the building.  

He was now fumbling up the stairs and peeling off his layers as he went, listening to the faint chuckles behind him as Louis caught his jumper and belt. The last few steps were causing a bit of an issue so the only practical solution was to crawl the rest of the way.

He eventually found the bed and pulled himself up, falling face first into the plush mattress. He muffled a groan as he slowly rolled over, his face tucked against his shoulder. He fluttered his eyes open, blinking them at Louis’ figure in the doorway. He reached his hands out, making a grabby motion. “Come ‘ere,”

Louis walked the short distance to the bed, hesitantly sitting on the edge. “I’m not going to have sex with you Harry,”

Harry shook his head, pouting his lips out. “Nooo I know, I want you to spoon me,”

Louis edged a bit closer, reaching out to brush the mop of curls off his forehead. “The little spoon are we? Figures, you’re cute as shit and therefore should be cuddled at all times.”

Harry mulled this over for a few seconds before pouting again. “Poop is not cute.”

“What about the emoji though? It’s smiling and everything!”

Harry nodded, though he really didn’t know what he was agreeing with. “Yes, yes, okay,” he gave Louis a dopey smile, fluttering his lashes. “Take my pants off?”

Louis cocked an eyebrow at him, his hands hovering over his waistband. “ _Just_ the jeans wise guy.”

Harry lifted his hips up in an effort to help Louis wiggle him out of the clingy denim and sluggishly watched as Louis neatly folded them, adding them to his pile of clothes on the dresser. 

Louis switched off the light and Harry felt the dip in the bed when he crawled in behind him, his nose tucking into the tangled curls at the base of his neck moments later. “Is it weird that I love your hair,” he whispered, his breath tickling the shell of his ear.

“No.” Harry paused, before whispering his own confession. “No one’s ever told me that before,”

Louis sighed, squeezing Harry closer with the arm he wrapped around his waist. “Love, no offence, but all of your exes are complete knobs.”

“You’re probably right about that.” All of a sudden, that thought made him very sad. He clutched onto Louis’ forearm, giving it a squeeze. “I wrote a bit today,”

He felt Louis nosing at his hair again while pressing barely there kisses to the side of his head. “Yeah? I thought the book was out this week though?”

“Yeah, yeah it is. This is for the next one. You’re in it,”

Louis slipped his fingers under his shirt, running them up his sides, laughing quietly. “Me? Really? What am I doing?”

“You’re a hot cop,” he giggled to himself as he started listing off fictional Louis’ traits. “Great ass, kind blue eyes, witty and charming, and most importantly, a gorgeous, gorgeous dick.” He held up a finger, “But, that parts just for me, I can’t include it obviously,” he tapped the finger against his head. “It’ll live up here forever.”

Louis was quiet after that. Maybe Harry should have kept most of those details to himself. But he leaned in a minute later, pressing warm lips on his neck. “Sleep love.”

“K.”

His heavy eyes closed instantly and maybe it was in a dream, but he could have sworn he heard Louis whisper, “It is just for you.”

~

Harry stumbled loudly down the stairs, clutching his head and tugging a pair of sweats up his hips, all while wondering what the hell he did to himself last night.

He squint his eyes against the harsh morning light and nearly shrieked when he saw Louis smirking at him from the kitchen table. Harry probably looked like he was on death’s doorstep, while Louis sat there looking heavenly in cream cashmere.

“Oh my god, have you been here all night?”

Louis’ smirk deepened. “Yep.”

Harry slumped into the chair across from him, cradling his forehead against his palm. “What happened?”

“Tequila. A lot of it.”

Harry groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Ugh, really? Was I the worst?”

“No, you were lovely.”

Harry peeked at him through his fingers, trying to gauge whether he was joking or not. Surely he couldn’t mean that. “Did we? You know,”

“Obviously not Harry, I would never take advantage of someone in that state.” He understandably looked a little insulted and Harry could have kicked himself for even thinking it, let alone saying it aloud. His eyes softened, “But, we did sleep together.”

Harry chewed on the cross pendant hanging from his necklace, searching through the cobwebs stuck to his brain. It took him a minute before he recalled Louis tucked in behind him, petting his hair, and Harry admitting that he wrote Louis into his next book. He blanched and opened his mouth to string together an apology when Louis interrupted him.

“I think we should go on a date,”

Harry blinked at him, awestruck. Did he maybe not hear Harry’s drunken midnight confessions? “When?”

“Now.”

“Seriously?”

Louis nodded, reaching for the teapot to pour them a refill. “Absolutely. I have the afternoon free and I want to spend it with you.”

Harry blushed. “Alright.” He couldn’t imagine anyone who would want to hang out with him again after his tequila induced shenanigans, so he was going to take this invite and run with it.

“Give me fifteen minutes?”

...

The drive along the countryside was idyllic, the snowy fields and fluffy white capped trees looking straight out of a fairytale. It wasn’t long before they were turning into a winding driveway that led up to a massive brick manor, which was covered in twinkling lights and bright red poinsettias.

Harry side eyed Louis. “This is quite posh,”

Louis undid his seatbelt and turned to face him with a nod, “I’m just trying to match your coat, what is that anyways?”

Harry glanced down at the creamy suede, thumbing at the teddy bear like collar. “It’s shearling, why?”

Louis licked his lips, reaching his own thumb over to mirror Harry’s previous movement. “You look expensive,”

Harry rolled his eyes. “What does that even mean?”

“I’m not sure, but I kind of want to put my hands all over you.” Harry gaped at him when he leaned away again, opening up his door to step out. “Ready for lunch?”

Harry was ready for Louis to fuck him in his five thousand dollar coat if he wanted an honest answer, but, he could also eat.

“Sure.”

...

So, this was a _real_ date. The restaurant was elegant and romantic, Louis was playing with his fingers across the table, there were candles everywhere, and wow. They were on a Sunday afternoon date.

Harry pushed his plate to the side, settling back into the plush velour seat. “If we’re on an actual date, then I guess we should start asking each other some questions,”

Louis pat the top of his hand, picking up his wine as he leaned back in his own chair. “The tables all yours.”

“What do you do for a living?”

A lop sided smile quirked up the side of his lips. “I’m a book editor.”

Harry playfully kicked at his shin, “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Louis shrugged indifferently. “You didn’t ask.”

Fair point.

“Jesus, am I really that self-absorbed?”

Louis laughed, “Is that question for me as well?”

Harry quickly shook his head, holding up his hands. “Absolutely not, I really don’t think I could handle that answer right now.”

Louis waved him off, “Oh please, as if you are.” He tipped his head to the side, eyes roaming Harry’s face in a way that made it start to heat up. “Did you always want to be a writer?”

“Yep. Let’s just say I was great at making up tall tales to get out of trouble as a kid.” He smiled faintly at the memory. His mother would claim to anyone that he was a perfect angel, but everyone besides her knew better.

Louis smiled. “I could see that.”

“My turn. How come you’re single?” Louis slowly arched an eyebrow, causing Harry to stumble on his words. To think it was his job to know how to use them. “I mean, because, you’re amazing, so…how?”

“I was pretty close to getting married once,” Louis mused, “But you know, life happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about really, we weren’t engaged or anything. We had talked about it a lot, but in the end we just couldn’t make it work,” he slid his chair in closer, placing his forearms on the table. “So, no dramatic story, just a regular boring break up.” He drummed his fingers on the table, contemplating his next question. “Okay, how come you live in LA?”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up surprise, “You’re not going to ask why I’m single?”

“You probably don’t remember, but I got a little more insight into that last night. I know why you’re single,”

“Why?”

He laughed around a sip of wine, “Because you have terrible taste in men!”

Harry winced, rubbing at his temples. “I really do, don’t I,”

Present company not included he hoped could be picked up without having to say it.

Louis dropped it, going back to his original question. “So, LA,”

“Right,” Harry scratched his hair, trying to think what it was about that certain city that kept him away from here for so long. “I think it’s because it’s a chill vibe but hectic at the same time? Everyone is so laid back, but also kind of fake, which should bother me more than it does, but hey with all those fake friends there’s never a lack of something to do. I’m not very good at being bored.”

Louis’ eyebrows drew together, his face thoughtful. “That’s definitely not the answer I expected,” he sent Harry a questioning look. “You don’t like to be alone then,”

Harry folded up the cuff of his flannel, pushing the sleeves up to his elbows. “I suppose. But it’s not about being with one person, I just like being around people in general. Plus it’s better than the company of me being left alone with my own thoughts,” he joked. “I’m sure that’s something a therapist would love to charge me thousands of dollars to unpack.”

Louis nodded slowly, “Yeah, but are you happy?”

Harry reached his hand under the table, giving Louis’ thigh a tiny squeeze. “I am right now.”

Louis, who Harry had yet to see blush, had turned an interesting shade of candy apple red. “Sorry, I let my questions get away from me. It was your turn ages ago.”

Harry leaned into the table, letting his shirt fall open enough to distract Louis from his bout of embarrassment. He cleared his throat to gather his attention back, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Do you want to go make out in the car?”

Louis immediately stood up and reached for his wallet, throwing a handful of money onto the table. “That is a question I don’t have to be asked twice.”

...

They made it as far as the parking lot before Louis had Harry pressed up against the side of his truck and kissed him until a gaggle of grannies told them they were going to catch a cold. They moved into the lush leather interior of Louis’ Range Rover, making quick work of fogging up the windows with their fevered kisses, laughing into each other mouths when another group of people tapped on the window and told them to get a room.

Now that they were sat outside the cottage and Louis had just finished nibbling on his neck and playing with the ends of his hair, Harry needed so much more.

“Do you want to come inside? I _really_ want you to come inside,” Harry indicated down to his lap, as if Louis couldn’t tell from the very unsubtle bulge in his jeans just how much he wanted him to come in.

Louis sighed, holding onto the collar of his jacket as if it were anchoring him to Harry. “God Harry, I do. I really, really do, but I have to get back home. Can I have a rain check?”

“Yeah of course, no problem," Harry hoped he hid his disappointment underneath his sunny smile. “And thank you again for lunch, I very much enjoyed getting to know each other better.” He leaned across the console, bringing his face inches away from Louis’ once more.

Louis moved without hesitation, pulling Harry towards him by the back of his head, gripping the wispy curls and sucking his tongue into his eager mouth. “Fuck, _Harry_ ,”

“That was my intention.”

“I swear you are going to kill me,” he cupped his cheek, pressing another quick kiss to his lips. “I’m back at work tomorrow, and I have a few things to take care of this week, but I want to see you again. I’ll call you okay?”

Harry nodded, pecking him back. “Okay.”

“And don’t drive yourself crazy in there,”

“I have my book to keep me busy, I’ll be fine.”

Louis looked reluctant to let him go, but finally released his shoulders. He touched the sides of his hair again, which made Harry’s heart beat that much faster. “These springy bits, I just...” he quickly shut his mouth again to stop himself from saying anything more. “Okay, goodbye for real, otherwise I’ll never leave.”

Harry did them one better by opening his door and stepping out of the truck all together. He raised a hand up. “Bye.”

“Bye, Harry.” Louis sent him a cheeky wink. “And try not to wank to fictional me!”

Harry huffed, stomping the snow off his boots.

There was a 100% chance he would be wanking to both versions of Louis now.

~

“Liam!”

“Hey, Harry, how’s it going? I thought I’d call to check in,”

Harry popped another cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly as he thought about his answer. For all intents and purposes it was going; he was making great work on his novel and he hadn’t drunk all the wine yet. Adulting 101 if you asked him.

“It’s going quite well, it’s a lovely town,” not that he had seen much of it, but Liam didn’t need to know that. “I also, um, met your friend Louis,”

“Oh shoot, I forgot to tell him I was going to be out of town, he often pops by when he’s had a few pints. Don’t worry, I can call him and tell him to leave you alone.

“No don’t do that! I mean, because… he was nice, and, well—

Liam gasped, comically scandalized. “Harry, did he put the moves on you? I swear I will sort this right out,”

Harry bit back a laugh. “Umm, no need, I…liked the moves just fine.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Yeah so, when you do talk to him can you tell him I say hi? And so do the old ladies in the village. He’ll know what I mean.”

Liam coughed, a surprised laugh coming out after it, “Sure, absolutely.”

Harry suddenly realized he hadn’t even asked Liam how LA was treating him. He really was a bit self-absorbed, Jesus. “How’s LA been? I hope the house and the eight hundred different ways to use everything in it haven’t been too confusing,”

“It’s been grand! I made friends with your neighbor,” 

That put a bright smile on Harry’s face. “Arthur’s pretty great isn’t he? He’s got so many incredible stories.”

Arthur was around eighty five years old and had a soft spot for Harry. He was constantly inviting him over for a round of pinochle and gossip with him and his old Hollywood pals and frankly, Harry loved it.

“Another thing, one of Ethan’s work mates stopped by to pick something up, Zayn?”

Harry’s stomach rolled over as soon as he heard Ethan’s name. As much as he could push his feelings aside, he still wasted a year of his life with that asshole.

“Oh that’s right, I forgot he was coming to grab his laptop. Zayn’s cool though, he’s sooo LA. You should get him to show you around, he knows every hip place to go,”

“Maybe I will. I should let you go, but take care alright? And if it matters, Louis really is a great guy.”

Harry knew that much the moment he met him. It was everything after that was making his head spin.

“Thank you Liam, I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

...

Harry really had been getting along quite well over the next few days. He remained focused on his book and finally spent some time doing the things people would normally do on vacation, like lounging at the local pub midday and eating endless amounts of chips. This also entailed dodging endless questions about where his handsome boyfriend was from the grannies that had taken a shine to him. What could he say, he was popular with the sixty and older crowd.

Harry didn’t have the heart to tell them that Louis wasn’t his boyfriend, but by the third time he’d heard the question he was almost annoyed enough to think he actually was. Why the hell hadn’t he heard from Louis yet?

After pacing around the living room for a half hour on day three with no word from Louis he decided to take matters into his own hands. He knew that he lived in town but after enough snooping aka asking everyone at the pub the night previous, he got an exact location.

And that’s where he stood with a bottle of wine and a bag full of goodies from the market, hoping that he wasn’t the biggest idiot in the world. He let out a shaky breath and knocked on the dark wooden door.

A moment later those deep blue eyes were boring into his, though he couldn’t gauge if they were actually happy to see him. “Harry...hi. This is a bit of a surprise,”

Harry shifted nervously on his feet, offering an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to show up like this, I was doing some shopping and I thought why not go—

His long winded rambling was interrupted by a miniature version of Louis, clinging to his thigh. “Daddy, who’s this?”

Harry’s eyes flashed at Louis, who looked more than slightly stressed. “Daddy?”

He nodded, placing his hands on the little girl’s shoulders with a weak smile. “Yes, I am daddy.” He brushed a hand over her hair, smoothing her bangs out of the way. “And this is Olivia. Liv, this is my friend Harry,”

Harry pressed pause on the hundreds of scenarios going through his mind to greet her back. “Nice to meet you Olivia,”

She gave him toothy smile, pointing her finger back inside. “Do you want to come in for hot chocolate, Harry?”

He glanced at Louis to make sure it was okay, his soft eyes telling him it was a definite yes. “Sure.”

Following them inside, he quickly took in the surroundings to search for clues into Louis’ life. The house was older and lived in, with a homey family feel to it, and somehow it perfectly captured Louis’ spirit.

He watched Harry carefully, tapping on Olivia’s shoulder. “Liv, why don’t you go find the marshmallows, I’ll be in there in a minute,”

“Okay daddy!”

They watched as she scrambled off into the kitchen and once she was out of sight Harry moved to stand in front of Louis, searching his eyes. “So are you...is there...”

Louis reached out to him, squeezing his wrist reassuringly. “Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it. The very short version of the story is that my best friend Jess and I both turned thirty and started to panic about the state of our lives. She wanted a baby, I offered to be the donor, and six years later I have not regretted a single part of that decision.”

Harry took a moment to let it all sink in. He supposed he now knew part of why Louis was single. He wanted to talk to Louis for hours about this, and everything else in his endlessly fascinating life. But that would have to wait.

Louis seemed to have been reading his mind, giving his wrist another squeeze. “Later.” He tugged on Harry’s sleeve, nodding towards the kitchen, “Fancy a homemade hot chocolate?" 

Harry wanted to respond with ‘I fancy you’ but he’d probably already reached his embarrassment quota by showing up unannounced in the first place.

“I’d love one.”

...

It took about two seconds for Harry to fall in love with Olivia. He had always loved kids, but a kid that had Louis’ laugh and identical crinkles by her eyes? He never stood a chance.

She was also just as cheeky as Louis was, getting him to perform a routine dubbed ‘Mr. Napkinhead’ for the sheer delight of knowing he was slightly mortified about doing it in front of Harry. Kids really were wise far beyond their years sometimes.

Louis pushed himself up from his chair, rubbing the back of her arm. “Okay little miss, it’s time for you to go to bed. Say goodnight to Harry,”

“Night, Harry!” She hopped off her chair, twirling a piece of hair around her finger as she smiled shyly at him. “You can sleepover if you like, I can share my bed.”

Harry was certain he had just felt his heart melt. “I have some work to do at home, but thank you Olivia, that’s very sweet,” he glanced at Louis and was ready to give it all up to stay from the way he was looking at them. “Maybe another time though.”

She ran over to hug him, wrapping her tiny arms over his shoulders when he bent down to meet her. “Okay, but you should come back, daddy never smiles this much when anyone else comes over.” She kissed him on the cheek and ran out of the room, her giggles fading out behind her.

Louis cleared his throat, pulling Harry out of his haze of endearment. “I’m just going to tuck her in. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Of course, yeah.”

Harry moved back into the living room while Louis headed upstairs, immediately honing in on the bookshelves that were filled to the brim. He fingered through the books, grinning when he saw his own name tucked in between a Motley Crüe biography and a Chrissy Teigen cookbook. “Interesting.”

He ventured on to the next shelf, where a silver framed picture caught his eye. He pulled it down, inspecting the women standing on the other side of Olivia.

“Jess hates that picture. She claims to look like a giant next to us,”

Harry looked up and was met with Louis looking cozy in plaid pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt that used to live in Harry’s closet. This was not helping in his decision to leave in the slightest. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah she is. That was on her wedding day,” he had come to stand next to Harry now, taking the frame out of his hands. He put it back on the shelf and took a hold of Harry, moving them over to the oversized, worn in couch.

Harry turned on his side to face him, leaning his cheek against the cushions as he laced their fingers together between them. “And her husband, he’s cool with all this?”

“Absolutely, James and I get on really well. Jess is constantly complaining that he sees me more than she does,”

Harry smiled. Knowing that this worked for Louis somehow made him feel happy too. “That’s great, you’re really lucky.”

Louis looked at bit somber after that comment. “I know I am. It’s not lost on me that complicated family matters often do not work out.”

Harry frowned, sitting up to shuffle closer to him. “Hey no, I didn’t mean it like that. I truly meant that you’re lucky. I’ve never slowed down enough to even think about having a family,”

Louis picked up his hand, brushing his lips across the top. “Well it’s clearly obvious you like kids, no one’s ever been a bigger hit with Liv. Liam is going to be devastated.”

“I love kids,” Harry looked deep into his eyes, feeling the nerves tremble underneath his skin. “I guess I’m just wondering why you didn’t tell me that you have one,”

Louis sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not that I didn’t want to, but kids complicate things you know? And you’re leaving in a few days, and trying to figure out how I feel about that has been complicated enough,”

Harry sighed too. It _was_ complicated, especially for a guy whose whole purpose in being there in the first place was to run away from a relationship. “I get that, and I don’t have any answers right now either. I just know that I want to be with you as much as I can,” he didn’t add the ‘before I leave’ because that felt way too final for his liking.

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

Harry’s heart thumped an octave louder, his face full of surprise. “It’s Christmas Eve, don’t you have Olivia?”

Louis shook his head, sliding his hand up Harry’s chest to fiddle with a button on his shirt. “I have her during the day and Jess is taking her for the evening. So, I’m free if you’ll have me,”

Harry felt his fingers (and other things) twitch. He would have Louis wearing a napkin over his face, this was barely a question. “I would love to spend Christmas Eve with you.”

Louis slid his had up to his face, leaning in to hover painfully close to his lips before drawing back with a smug grin.

“Good.”

~

Harry practically floated all the way home, living off the high of just being around Louis. Kissing him and touching him was one thing, but the feeling of simply being enveloped in his warm presence was something Harry has never known with anyone before. The word ‘love’ was dangling there in the back of his mind, daring him to use it for the first time in his life, which was majorly out of his comfort zone.

And maybe that’s exactly what he needed. Maybe Louis was exactly what he needed.

He puttered around the cottage making sure to get rid of any trace of the mess he couldn’t help but create when he got deep into the writing zone. Harry had never been a slob by any means, but he did have a cleaner in LA so he really couldn’t be positive if that were true. So double checking for caramel popcorn remnants was a must unless he wanted to end up with some of it stuck in places that popcorn just should not be.

As always, he lost track of time, and before he knew it was already half past six. He was perusing the fettuccine recipe he was thinking of making when he heard that familiar knock on the front door.

“Come in!”

Louis appeared a second later, slipping out of the snowy boots on his feet, while he placed a paper bag on the floor so he could hang up his jacket. He shook out his hair, smiling brightly at Harry with a devilish glint in his eye. “Hello there,”

Harry nodded to the parcel he was holding onto. “What’s in the bag?”

“Handcuffs.”

Harry choked on a breath, clutching onto the mantle to steady himself. “Excuse me?!”

Louis grinned, swinging the bag as he walked over to Harry. “I thought since it’s my birthday, we could make your cop Louis a reality,”

Harry glowered at him. “It’s your birthday? Why didn’t you say anything last night, I would have gotten you something!”

Louis paused in front of him, wiggling the bag in-between them. “Oh believe me love, this is my gift,” he bit down on his lip, concern clouding his eyes. “Of course that’s only if this is okay with you, we can just—

Harry placed a hand over his mouth, muffling the rest of his words. “Louis, please shut up and take my clothes off.”

He cocked an eyebrow and slowly pulled the handcuffs out of the bag, dangling them on the end of his finger. 

“That’s Officer Tomlinson to you. Now put your hands above your head.”

...

Harry never did get around to making them that fettuccine, something about being handcuffed to the bed while Louis attempted to make him come from a mix of filthy, filthy talk and teasing him with his fingers - spoiler, it worked - was so much more important than eating.

A few hours later they finally settled into bed under a blanket of darkness, a fresh batch of snow making the windows frost up. Harry rolled onto his side, watching the rise and fall of Louis’ chest, his soft puffs of breath creating the only sound in the dead silent room. That was usually what drove Harry nuts, unnerving quiet and utter stillness, but for once in his life he felt a peaceful, Zen like calm. He couldn’t even achieve this at yoga.

Louis stirred in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open and finding Harry’s in the dark. He turned on his side as well, his fingertips lightly tracing over Harry’s features. “In case I forgot to say it, thank you for the best birthday in years.” He leaned over, pressing a soft lingering kiss to Harry’s lips. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

Harry returned the kiss, before turning over to let Louis wrap him up against his chest.

“Merry Christmas, Lou.”

…

After a goodbye that had more words hanging in the air than what was shared between them, Harry called his mum and sister to wish them a Happy Christmas. Just hearing his mother’s voice soothed him enough to start talking about his stupid feelings and how much he was already willing to do for Louis.

He held his breath for a moment before blurting out his confession. “Mum…I think I’m in love,”

“Oh god Harry, you’re not back with bloody Ethan are you?”

He sat down on the couch, flicking a wayward sock out of the way. “No, of course not,” he glanced at the sock again, noting that it wasn’t his but who this call was really about. “I actually met him here, last week,”

“ _Harry_ —

Harry cut her off before she could go into full protective mum mode. “Mum, I know what you’re going to say, but have I ever told you that I’ve loved someone? I’m serious. Louis is...well, he’s fucking amazing.”

“Honestly Harry, language.” Harry laughed, and she joined in a second later before pressing on. “Alright honey, I trust you. But, what about work, what about LA? You love it there. Have you thought about those things?”

“I’m a writer, I can do my job anywhere, and frankly, as much as I love LA, what good has it done for me really?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “You seemed to have made up your mind already, so where you hoping I’d talk you out of it?”

“No, I just want you to tell me that I haven’t completely lost my mind,”

“Oh baby, of course you haven’t, love isn’t rational. Queen doesn’t have a song called ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’ for nothing.” Harry had to admire her excellent musical reference. “And I know you. If you say you’re in love, then shit, he must be special.”

Harry giggled at his mother’s profanity after she had just scolded him over his own. “Thanks mum, I appreciate the reassurance.”

“Let us know how it goes and if you need us to come home.”

Harry nodded. “I will. I love you mum,”

“Love you too baby.”

~

The call with his mother did help him in solidifying his decision. He was going to stay through New Years and then sort out what to do about LA after that. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep the house yet, but he probably shouldn’t make any rash decisions, especially when it came to real estate. More importantly, he should probably go over this with the person who was the reason he wanted to say goodbye to endless summers and fake friends.

He settled back into his writing, feeling the words pour out of him like they never had before. Maybe he’d gotten it all wrong, maybe peace and quiet was going lead to a goldmine of writing material. At the rate he was going he could be working on a new trilogy by the spring.

The hours all seemed to be blending into one, and he once again lost track of the day and time. He was deep into a bloody crime scene description when the frantic banging on his door jostled him out of his Detective Tomlinson stupor.

He quickly shut the laptop and jogged over to the door, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he pulled it open and gasped when he caught Louis in his arms.

“Louis, what—

He was shut up with a hurried kiss and Louis’ hands tugging at the curls on the nape of his neck. Harry kicked the door shut behind him, setting Louis back on his feet. He held onto Harry’s face, pleading with his eyes. “I just need to be close to you.”

Harry quickly tugged him back in for a messy kiss, “Whatever you want Lou, I’m here,”

“Can you turn around?”

Harry did as he was told, waiting for his next instructions. Louis plastered himself up against his back, sliding Harry’s hands up to lay flat on the door. Louis drew his tongue along the vein on his neck, catching his ear between his teeth. “Want to fuck you just like this,”

Harry felt a ragged breath leave his lips as he closed his eyes. “Okay.”

Louis smoothed his hands down his sides, slowly dropping to his knees and taking Harry’s sweats with him. He leaned his head on the back of Harry’s left thigh, breathing him in. “Fuck, you’re too much,”

Harry craned his neck to glance behind him, finding Louis’ eyes. “I could say the same about you.”

Louis shook his head, sighing into his heated skin. “God, I lo...” but he cut himself off by slipping his tongue between Harry’s cheeks.

Harry shuddered, his eyes squeezing shut again from the slow and torturous flicks of Louis’ tongue.

He may have never been in love before, but he was certain that this, and Louis, was it for him.

....

Harry woke up the next morning to find the other side of the mattress long cold. He quickly jumped out of bed, pulling on boxer briefs and a t-shirt, trying to ignore the pull of fear in the pit of his stomach.

He flew down the stairs, breathing in a sigh of relief when he saw Louis sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped over his shoulders and a mug of tea clutched in his hands. However, he was nervous all over again when he got close enough to see him looking small and defeated.

Harry sat on the coffee table across from him, worriedly surveying his face. “Is everything okay?”

Louis fell apart instantly, the tears pouring down his face faster than he could wipe them away. Harry grabbed his hands, his own eyes feeling moist with the threat of tears. “Lou, please tell me what’s going on,”

He blinked over at Harry with sad, heavy eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Harry leaned over to thumb away his tears. “I don’t want to leave either. I cancelled my flight last night,”

Louis immediately turned red, smacking Harry in the arm, “Seriously?! You couldn’t have told me this before I made a blubbering arse out of myself?”

Harry clasped his hands again, his fingers trembling. “I can’t begin to understand how you care about me this much, but please believe me when I say that I feel it too. I was sick at the thought of leaving you without knowing where we stand.” Harry felt a tear slid own his cheek, Louis’ eyes tracking it with a smile.

“Harry, love—

“I’m not done. I love you Louis, I really do. And in the New Year I want to move here. I want to be with you.”

“Harry, are you serious?”

He nodded, wiping at his face. Here he was declaring his love and crying for the first time in a long time. He should probably buy a lottery ticket while he’s on a roll. “Well honestly, why would I leave before New Year’s Eve? That’s just poor planning if you ask me.”

Louis threw his arms around him, hugging him close to his chest. He brought his lips to his ear, his voice a barely a whisper. “I’m so in love with you Harry.” He pulled back again, holding him by the shoulders. “We’re crazy right?”

“Yeah, but the good kind of crazy,” Harry brushed Louis’ hair away from his face, kissing the tip of his nose. “So, are you going to be my New Year’s date?”

Louis wiped his face with the fleece blanket, before pulling him back in for a kiss by the curls he couldn’t seem to get enough of. “I don’t know, it might take some convincing,”

Harry slid a hand into the front of Louis’ boxers with a sly smile.

Louis rolled his eyes, trying to appear unaffected. “That’s cheating.”

…

Needless to say, Harry had Louis saying yes (as well as yes yes yes) ten minutes later.

~

New Year’s Eve.

If someone had told Harry in January that he would be ringing in the New Year in England surrounded by his closest friends and a man he’d known for less than two weeks that he was crazy in love with, he’d have told them to take it easy on the hallucinogenic drugs.

But it wasn’t a trippy dream at all, he was actually here, in Louis’ festively decked out home, hugging Niall into his arms despite all his proclamations his phone would be turned off.

“So, how long did you really last being unplugged?”

“Four days,” Niall winked across the room at Nancy, who waved her hello. “She had a sneaking suspicion something like this would happen,”

Harry laughed in surprise. “What, that I’d fall in love with England again?”

Niall shook his head. “No, that you’d fall in love. We always thought you’d hit it off with Louis, but I could never get you over here.”

Harry flushed. It _was_ a bit ridiculous that he had been avoiding coming back for so long. He held his glass up in a salute. “I’ll have to get Liam a very good thank you gift, though it already seems like I inadvertently did,”

They turned to where Liam and Zayn were huddled in the corner admiring Louis’ bookshelf that held his comic collection. Apparently Zayn _had_ shown him all the best LA sights, including his bed.

Niall chuckled, tapping his glass to Harry’s. “It’s the holidays. Love is in the air.” He took a sip of the bubbly pink champagne, his blue eyes meeting Harry’s with a knowing smile. “And I fully support your decision, in case I didn’t make it clear on the phone. I’ll fly here whenever I can. The misses and I actually talked about moving back ourselves, so maybe it was fate for all of us.”

Now that was something to celebrate. He took a sip out the crystal glass, swallowing slowly as he watched Louis make his way over to him, looking luscious in blue velvet, his eyes clearing undressing Harry out of his own shimmering blazer.

He pat Niall on the arm, who was already rolling his eyes and turning away. “Excuse me,”

“Hello, love.” Louis took his hand, leading him away to a corner where they could have a private dance.

Harry swayed them back and forth a moment before pulling him against his chest. “How was your chat with Olivia?”

“Aside from the little devil being up way past her bedtime, it was good. She got some exciting news,”

“Oh?”

“She’s going to be a big sister,”

“Oh Lou, that’s great!”

“It is a pretty lovely way to end the year.” He ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, probably for the hundredth time.

Harry shuffled them around in circle, singing along to the song that had just come on through the speakers. “What are you doing New Year’s, New Year’s Eve…”

He could feel the smile spread across Louis’ face as he pinched Harry’s bum. “Would it be rude to say you?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Harry leaned back to meet his sparkling eyes, running a thumb along his cheek, “So, there’s been talk about getting me a book editor over here, I don’t suppose you know any?” 

“Hmm, I might,”

Harry gave him a spin, hugging him close once more. “We can talk about it later. I just wanted to give you a heads up,”

“Harry, there’s something I want to give you a heads up about as well,”

Harry stopped their dance, holding their hands between them. “What is it?”

Louis flushed slightly. Harry still couldn’t believe he was the one that could do that to him. “I think I want to marry you one day.”

Harry’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “You do?”

He nodded, rubbing his thumb over Harry’s knuckles. “I really do. What do you think?”

Harry leaned down to kiss him, just as the clock struck midnight.

“I think that’s going to be my greatest chapter yet.”

 

 

 

 

~The end ~


End file.
